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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220771">show the way (the world could be)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennathegrey/pseuds/niennathegrey'>niennathegrey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Somewhere [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief Depiction of Slavery (Not Named Characters), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emperor Kylo Ren, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Visions (Star Wars), Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, No Pregnancy, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:35:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennathegrey/pseuds/niennathegrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe. </p><p>When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really <i>is</i> a line between light and dark after all.  </p><p>(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finn &amp; Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Leia Organa &amp; Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Somewhere [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>To Find Your Kiss: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergenie/gifts">writergenie</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I combined your first and third prompts: </p>
<p></p><li>Supreme Leader Kylo Ren being a capable leader and good politician, making the Resistance superfluous and Rey question everything she knows. Eventual Emperor/Empress.</li>
<p></p><li>Heavy angst, post-TLJ. Rey is stubborn about bringing Ben to the light, unwilling to consider that balance means letting the dark in. Without understanding the consequences, she tries to sever their bond and ends up hurting Kylo deeply enough that he shuts himself off from the Force bond. Author’s choice re: happy ending.</li><p>Hope you enjoy!</p><p>
  
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The more things change, the more they stay the same—or so it feels to Rey, in those first few weeks after Crait.</p><p>There’s a certain harsh, rugged beauty to Boreas-V, with its pristine plains of snow that shine in the noontime sun and the fern-frost that blooms on every pane of transparisteel.</p><p>At first, Rey drinks it in with all the wide-eyed wonderment of a girl for whom, until very recently, snow and ice and winter breezes had been things out of spacers’ tales. But it isn’t long before she—as well as the rest of the Resistance—realize that for all its beauty, Boreas-V is just as much a desert as Jakku had been.</p><p>They’ve arrived just as winter is truly beginning, so most of the native fauna appear too infrequently, or have too little meat, to be worth the effort of hunting, and the tough, scrubby plants are nearly all inedible likewise. Until spring comes, they’re stuck with field rations, bolstered by some blubbery fish that Poe and a couple of other pilots bring back when they occasionally manage to break through the ice on the nearby river.</p><p>While everyone else grumbles, Rey simply bites her tongue and chomps down harder on her protein sticks and carb-rolls. Food’s food, after all.</p><p>She keeps as busy as she can, as much from force of habit as to distract herself from the short commons and shorter tempers flaring around the base. She still spends most of her days elbow-deep in the innards of starships older than she is—and in a strange, twisted way, this one unchanged thing becomes a relief, something to retreat to when, after lifting rocks or ice or heavy equipment with the Force, as she sometimes does, the others stare, cold, leaden threads of apprehension twining through the glow of their awe.</p><p>Even Finn, her first and closest friend, is drifting away from her, it seems. It’s not on purpose, not at all, and he’s still as warm and kind as ever when they speak to each other, but those moments are fewer and further between as Finn finds his place in the Resistance, spending hours discussing strategy with Poe and Leia and stealing moments in secluded corners with Rose.</p><p>Rey, meanwhile, has a broken lightsaber and the handful of Jedi texts she’d smuggled off Ahch-To, neither of which anyone can really help her with. Blithe assurances of their faith in her are no substitute for someone who truly understands the weight of expectation, of being more <em>talisman</em> than person, of being alone in a crowd of hundreds.</p><p>But it’s the nights—as ever—that are the hardest. No amount of telling herself that supplies are short and <em>everyone’s</em> cold can change the fact that <em>she,</em> <em>Rey, is freezing, </em>nor that the two threadbare blankets that were all they could spare her are doing kriff-all about it.</p><p>It’s a particularly cruel irony when, one night as she’s wrapped up tight in the blankets, curled into a ball and exhausted from shivering, her ears pop and the hum of her clunky, ancient heater grows muffled.</p><p>Rey allows herself one second to squeeze her eyes tighter closed before rising from her bunk. <em>“You,”</em> she snarls through gritted teeth.</p><p>Be— no, <em>Kylo Ren</em> looks every bit the Supreme Leader of the First Order, ruler and scourge of billions. His heavy, black robes and imposing size are a stark contrast to the blue-white ice and cramped walls of her quarters. He looks down his long, patrician nose at her, his face carefully, regally blank—</p><p>—Ah, but there’s a small crease between his brows, a faintly perturbed twist to his mouth. Rey chooses to think it’s because of the stream of profanity she thought at him as loudly as possible, rather than because of her disheveled hair and wrinkled nightclothes.</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“What do you want?”</p><p>He gives her a pointed look. “You know perfectly well what I want.”</p><p>So they’re back to this, then— and why not, what else had she expected? Rey scowls.</p><p>“For me to turn. Well, I <em>won’t</em>—” She feels herself start to shiver, exposed as she is without her blankets, and though she clenches her jaw tighter, her teeth click together sharply. “—so you can save your breath, <em>Supreme Leader</em>,” she continues when the fit has passed. “You have <em>nothing</em> I want—"</p><p>“Nothing?” he repeats, leaning closer, eyes fevered in the dim light. “Then why is the Force still connecting us?”</p><p>“I didn’t choose this!” she protests, another fit of shivers overtaking her. “I d-didn’t <em>call </em>you h-h-here!”</p><p>Humiliated, Rey squeezes her eyes shut once more. She wants to rub her arms, blow into her hands, <em>anything</em>, just for a brief lick of warmth.</p><p>But she can’t, can’t look even weaker, not when she can feel Kylo’s probing gaze even through her closed eyelids.</p><p>“Where the hell are you?” he asks after a long, silent moment.</p><p>Rey’s eyes snap open and she glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “As if I’d tell you.”</p><p>There’s that crease in his brow again, a flash of indignation crossing his face so quickly that Rey blinks, wondering whether it had merely been a trick of the light.</p><p>“Somewhere cold, clearly.”</p><p>“Somewhere out of your reach. That’s all that matters.” She lifts her chin defiantly, throwing up walls of sandstone in her mind in case he attempts to pry. “You’ll n-never find us, not until the day we b-b-burn the First Order down.”</p><p>He arches an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”</p><p>When Kylo approaches her, Rey tenses, preparing to defend herself, but before she can force her numb limbs to react, he unclasps his cloak and drapes it over her shoulders. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Rey nearly stumbles with the unexpected weight of it.</p><p>“What—”</p><p>It’s also <em>warm</em>, smelling faintly of smoke and some unidentifiable spice, and she can’t help the way her eyes flutter briefly closed, nor her quiet moan of relief at the sudden absence of cold.</p><p>Kylo carefully tucks the cloak around her, wrapping the collar around her throat. His fingers brush the sides of her neck, and his palms rest flat over her shoulders.</p><p>Part of her, the part that will always have one foot in the treacherous sands of Jakku, screams at her for a fool—<em>danger, too close, </em>he could easily snap her neck if he chose.</p><p>The rest of her notes how lightly his hands rest on her—as if she were fine porcelain and not a cold, weary, scrappy girl, his equal and his enemy—and the near-imperceptible tremble in his fingers, even through his thick leather gloves.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“You’d be a lot more intimidating,” he says, the low rumble echoing in the breath of space between them, “if your teeth weren’t chattering.”</p><p>“Kriff off,” Rey mutters, with rather less heat than she would like.</p><p>As if to oblige her, Kylo takes his hands away from her—but slowly, as if he’s reluctant to let go.</p><p>The bond hums in the tiny room like a live wire.</p><p>Rey shies from it, instead focusing on the slow unclenching of her muscles as the warmth of the cloak spreads through her.</p><p>Kylo abruptly steps back and the sudden movement sends a waft of icy air into Rey’s face.</p><p>“You could have killed me. On the <em>Supremacy.</em> Why didn’t you?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice, but it’s edged with cynicism. “You’d just betrayed me—”</p><p>And just like that, the strange tension of a moment ago is forgotten, and Rey feels almost relieved to go back to trading barbs with him. “<em>Me?</em> You insufferable, arrogant—” She spits a particularly blue Huttese insult at him, out loud this time. “<em>You</em> betrayed <em>me</em>!"</p><p>“If it weren’t for me,” he snaps, cold and cutting where she is fiery and fierce, “you’d be dead.”</p><p>Her eyes trace the scar running down his cheek and disappearing into the high neck of his doublet. He had spared her life, but on what terms? If she had stayed, what would she have become?</p><p>“There are worse things.”</p><p>Kylo meets her gaze, and it’s like Ahch-To all over again, the bleak resignation in his eyes cutting into her almost as much as the frigid air had. “Yes, there are.”</p><p>He vanishes, then, and Rey’s left standing alone in her quarters with the Supreme Leader’s cloak still draped around her shoulders.</p><p>She has half a mind to fling it off—but this is the warmest she’s been in weeks, and now that Kylo is gone, the exhaustion she’d been fighting off rushes back in. She has just enough presence of mind to stumble back into her bunk before finally, blessedly, falling asleep.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>A few days later, Rey, arms laden with spare parts, shoulders open the door of her quarters—and nearly drops the lot when she spots a figure in deepest black slumped over her tiny workbench.</p><p>Scowling, she quickly kicks the door shut behind her and dumps the parts onto the floor.</p><p>Kylo seems to be out cold—he doesn’t stir at the slam of the door, nor at the clatter of metal.</p><p>Rey wavers, biting her lip, and she tentatively reaches out across the bond.</p><p>His mind is blank, deep in the heavy, hard sleep that comes when—no matter how determined the mind—the body reaches its limits. His Force signature is likewise quiet, though not entirely peaceful. It reminds her of a story Jessika once told about flying over a volcanic planet, about how the thick, hard blackness of cooled lava could, and often did, split open at any time to reveal the boiling, red-hot veins underneath.</p><p>She creeps closer to the bench. Kylo’s head is buried in his folded arms, turned just enough to the side that she can see him in profile: the plane of his pale cheek, the long line of his nose, the curve of his ear poking through his tangled hair.</p><p>Were it not for the scar, she could almost imagine she’s looking at a young Ben Solo, deep in the innocent slumber of an overtired scholar.</p><p>Was this what Luke saw, the night everything went so horribly wrong?</p><p>How could he have looked on his nephew like this and thought him too far gone?</p><p>As if roused by this particular thought, Ben snaps awake. His head jerks up from the bench so suddenly that Rey takes an instinctive step back. Then he looks at her—and his eyes are so full of visceral, unthinking panic that she raises her hands, palms out and fingers splayed in the universal gesture of peace.</p><p>“Easy,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing.</p><p>Ben stares at her, unseeing, for a moment longer. Then, as awareness trickles back in, he sags slightly in his seat.</p><p>“Two,” he mumbles, dashing a hand roughly across his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Two times you could have killed me, and still you haven’t.”</p><p>“Three, if you count Starkiller.”</p><p>Ben gives her a petulant look. “You still haven’t told me <em>why</em>.”</p><p>Rey folds her arms across her chest, feeling unaccountably like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “I’m not a murderer.”</p><p>“You’ve killed people.” It’s not accusatory, just a statement of fact. They’re at war, after all.</p><p>“Not for revenge, or— or pleasure.”</p><p>He scoffs, lightly thunking his head against the unseen back of his chair. “You could do it and no jury in the galaxy would convict you. Most people would call it justice.”</p><p>Rey looks away. “I know.”</p><p><em>“The last thing I saw were the eyes of a frightened boy,”</em> Luke had said that night on Ahch-To.</p><p>Would it have been justice to kill a man with such raw panic and fear in his eyes as she’d just seen in Ben’s?</p><p>Luke had thought so, for a moment—and he had been haunted for years, angry and bitter and full of shame, all his nobler aspirations crumbled to ash along with his temple.</p><p>Rey doesn’t want that.</p><p>“You keep asking about <em>this</em>”—she waves a hand between them, and Ben blinks at the non-sequitur—“why it keeps happening. I don’t know why. But if I’m still alive after everything, maybe… maybe you’re supposed to be, too. The Force isn’t done with you. Either of us.”</p><p>He scoffs, a bitter, empty breath. “Spoken like a true Jedi.”</p><p>When he vanishes, Rey feels oddly bereft, staring at the large, empty space at her workbench that is the only sign he was ever there. She tells herself, as she busies herself with the parts of the broken lightsaber, that it’s simply because she hates letting him have the last word.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>It’s another few days until the bond brings them face to face again—</p><p>—which is not to say that it’s been <em>shut</em>.</p><p>Occasionally, with seemingly no rhyme or reason, Rey feels snatches of emotions that are not her own—red-hot spikes of rage and frustration, the bone-deep gray of exhaustion just skirting black unconsciousness.</p><p>She’s back at her workbench, turning the broken targeting computer from <em>Black One</em> over in her hands, when she hears the rush of air that signals the bond opening. At this point, it no longer startles her—</p><p>—but the crackling hum of Ben’s lightsaber <em>does</em>. She jumps, glancing over her shoulder with wide eyes.</p><p>He’s facing away from her, ‘saber held high as he whirls and parries and slashes, his movements metered and measured.</p><p>Training, she deduces—and then, idly, wonders whether he’ll end up melting gouges into her walls that she’ll have to explain away later.</p><p>This is the first time she’s been able to watch him fight without being in fear for her life, and it’s—<em>he’s—</em>fascinating.</p><p>He’s not <em>graceful</em>, exactly—he has too much brute strength for that. Nonetheless, he’s arresting and, without even realizing it, Rey has abandoned her tools and turned fully in her seat to face him. His muscles, bared by a sleeveless black undershirt, ripple and flex with every move, and there’s a curious heat crawling across her cheeks, but, oh Force, she <em>can’t look away.</em></p><p>Ben must surely sense her staring at him, but if he does, he gives no sign of it. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge her at all, whether by look or by word.</p><p>Deciding to announce her presence before she can embarrass herself further, Rey pointedly clears her throat.</p><p>Ben half-turns to glance over his shoulder, twirling his saber as if in salute. “Hello.”</p><p>Rey’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you just ignoring me now, then?”</p><p>He snorts, barely pausing in his routine as he answers. “You can’t seriously expect me to drop everything I’m doing every time the Force connects us. I’d get nothing done.”</p><p>“Mm, running an evil empire must keep you busy.”</p><p>He stabs an opponent—likely a droid—with rather more force than strictly necessary. “Something like that.”</p><p>He doesn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation, and so a few moments pass in silence. Rey doesn’t even pretend to turn back to her workbench, telling herself sternly to watch for weaknesses in Ben’s forms. If he senses her intent through the bond, it doesn’t seem to faze him, and she wonders at either his arrogance or his trust in her.</p><p>“Awfully bold of you, showing me all your best moves.”</p><p><em>Now</em> he turns to her with a glint of challenge in his eye. “Who said these were my best? Besides”—he shrugs—”I offered to teach you once. You’re the one who keeps turning me down.”</p><p>“Turning the dark side down,” Rey stresses.</p><p>Ben shakes his head dismissively. “Same thing.”</p><p>“It’s not.”</p><p>“It amounts to the same,” he insists, with the first tinge of irritation she’s heard from him all day.</p><p>“It doesn’t have to. You can still turn back to the light.”</p><p>Ben heaves a long, put-upon sigh. “Are we having this conversation again?”</p><p>Rey shoots to her feet, the better to look him in the eye. “You saw us standing together—I know you did. And so did I.”</p><p>“We <em>did</em> stand together. Look where it got us.” Ben gestures impatiently between them, at little more than arm’s length and yet still lightyears apart.</p><p>“So that’s it, then?” Rey snaps. “You resent me for turning you down, but won’t consider that maybe <em>my</em> way is the way we end up fulfilling that vision?” She leans forward, willing him to understand, to <em>listen.</em> “You said it yourself—you saved my life. There <em>is</em> still light in you. You can’t deny that.”</p><p>Ben’s gaze sharpens. Without looking away from her, he powers off his ‘saber and, very deliberately, sets it down somewhere—it vanishes the second it leaves his hand. Then he steps closer to her—and then closer still, until Rey has to crane her neck slightly to hold his gaze. Her head swims with the heat radiating off him.</p><p>“Perhaps I had… other reasons,” Ben murmurs, low and secret like a confession, or perhaps a dare.</p><p>Rey’s mouth is suddenly dry, and when she tries to speak, nothing comes out. She darts her tongue out to wet her lips—and this close, she can’t miss the way Ben’s gaze flickers down to her mouth.</p><p>“Like what?” she tries again, hoping she doesn’t sound as breathless as she feels.</p><p>Ben leans down, his eyes nearly black, only a thin ring of brown left around pupils that are blown wide. “‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength.’ Whatever else the Sith got wrong, perhaps they were right about <em>that</em>, at least.”</p><p>Rey vaguely recognizes the words as a quote she’d seen in one or other of the Jedi texts, but oh <em>Force</em>, the way Ben speaks them makes the Sith Code sound less like a mantra of corruption and more like a tantalizing promise of forbidden fruit.</p><p>The Force <em>throbs</em> around them, as palpable and as potent as heat haze rising off the sand on a Jakku afternoon—</p><p>—and then, when Rey is certain she’s about to burn to embers, the bond is severed.</p><p>Frigid air rushes into the space where Ben stood not a moment before, hitting her in the face like a slap.</p><p>She shakes her head, as if shaking off the last clinging vestiges of a dream. Then she sits back down at her workbench and tries to resume work on the targeting computer.</p><p>It takes her less than a minute to realize she’s far too distracted for such a delicate task. With a frustrated growl, she snatches up her quarterstaff and all but races to the makeshift training room she’s staked out for herself, intent on satisfying the sudden urge she feels to whack something.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>“Hey, Rey?”</p><p>She turns, one hand still raised in the air, to find Poe peering through the doorway of her training area.</p><p>“Any news on the targeting computer?”</p><p>She gulps, thinking about how she’d left it lying, still broken, on her workbench after her encounter with Ben. “Not yet. Sorry.”</p><p>Poe’s shoulders sag slightly, and he sighs, his face falling. But he recovers quickly and nods. "That's okay, there’s no rush. One of the older ships will do me fine until it’s fixed.”</p><p>Rey shifts a little, nibbling the inside of her lip, trying not to look too guilty.</p><p>“What’re you doing?” Poe asks, moving to lean against the metal doorframe and looking up at the crates Rey has suspended in the air.</p><p>“Training,” she replies, a tinge of irritation creeping into her tone. She would quite like Poe to leave her in peace again. She’d just about found a sense of balance again after Ben had messed it all up, but she’s quickly losing it.</p><p>However, if Poe picks up on the cue, he doesn’t show it.</p><p>“Connix intercepted a message today that you might be interested in.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Apparently there’s this pair of dealers at a trading post in the Outer Rim who’re boasting about lifting some Jedi artifacts from the old Imperial archives.”</p><p>He pauses expectantly, and Rey blinks at him. “Okay…?”</p><p>“So maybe you should go see them? They might have something that could help you master this”—Poe waves vaguely at the crates still hanging in the air—“Jedi thing.”</p><p>She frowns and shakes her head. “That’s not how the Force works.”</p><p>“All right. Well”—he pushes himself away from the edge of the door, and Rey hopes he’s finally leaving—“she’s going to store the data anyway. Just in case. Might turn out useful, right?” He backs out into the corridor. “And let me know when the targeting computer’s ready,” he calls as he disappears around the corner. “No rush.”</p><p>With a sigh of lamentation for her lost concentration, Rey lets her arms fall and the crates crash to the floor. She supposes she really should be getting back to her workbench.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>Again, she’s in her vision from the hut on Ahch-To—</p><p>
  <em>She and Ben side-by-side, twin blue sabers raised proudly against an unseen foe, the bond singing with an undeniable sense of rightness. </em>
</p><p>She’s returned to this scene countless times over the weeks, her unconscious mind mocking her with what might have been. The dream is always the same, and yet—</p><p><em>A breath of sound echoes throughout the cavernous vault—her own voice, that earnest, hopeful whisper from the turbolift on the </em>Supremacy:<em> “You’ll turn… I saw it.” </em></p><p>And that’s new. Usually the dream shatters as quickly as it begins—just like the vision had shattered along with the stone hut on Ahch-To—but this time it morphs into something different.</p><p>
  <em>Snoke’s throne room, red as blood, hot as hell. The broad, strong bulk of Ben firm against her back as she kicks out at a Praetorian. Their ‘sabers, icy blue and jagged scarlet, whirling and slashing in unison as the guards charge them. Ben’s low baritone, rumbling like thunder: “I saw something too… You’ll stand with me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A shower of sparks, blinding in the darkness, resolving into—</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Rey—but not Rey—seated on a throne, pale and beautiful and terrible, dressed in black and crowned with a silver circlet. Kylo Ren stands at her right hand, tall and strong and proud, a matching silver circlet upon his brow. The dark monarchs look at each other, the bond twining around them sinuous as smoke.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He nods once. She raises a hand and squeezes the air tight. A gasp— a death rattle— the thud of a corpse dropping onto polished obsidian tile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Long live the Empress,” Kylo intones, his voice low and throaty with pride.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Long live the Emperor.” Rey-but-not-Rey’s answering smile is bright and cruel, sunlight on the edge of a knife. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She grasps his doublet in one hand, yanking him down—</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> —“Mister Ben, Miss Rey!” pipes a high, childish voice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ben and Rey—clad in roughspun gray robes, their hair ruffled by the morning breeze which tangles the strands together in midair—freeze, their mouths a hair’s breadth apart. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He squeezes his eyes tighter shut, leaning his forehead against hers with a rueful smile. She snickers quietly, nuzzling her nose against his. Then they both turn to look down at a pair of children—a Twi’lek girl and a human boy. The girl is tugging on the hem of Ben’s tunic. The boy hides behind her, staring at Rey and Ben with wide, awed eyes. Both children, too, are clad in roughspun gray. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The little Twi’lek pulls Ben away, chattering a mile a minute. He lets himself be led, nodding seriously and offering commentary when she looks up at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rey’s fingers are still woven loosely through his and, with a smile—small and secret, and yet blinding in its tenderness—she nods to the boy and follows the unlikely pair—</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>—and walks through an arched doorway into a small kitchen garden. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rey kneels down among the plants. She weeds and waters and prunes with the smoothness of one for whom this is a daily task. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She looks up at some inaudible sound, then tilts her head invitingly. “Join me?” she says, her smile both affectionate and impish, and utterly beguiling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A well-worn pair of boots comes into view, followed by Ben—in a simple shirt and pants, a little towel tucked into his belt—kneeling down to join Rey in the dirt. She starts pointing out this plant or that, occasionally putting her hand over his when she wants to make a point, or to direct him—</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>—and suddenly their intertwined hands are resting on the console of the </em>Millennium Falcon.</p><p>
  <em>Ben lifts Rey’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to each knuckle in turn. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rey flicks switches and turns dials with her free hand, even as she half-rises from the copilot’s seat and leans over to kiss Ben’s temple, her lips lingering at his hairline. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looks up at her with a boyish grin. “Punch it, sweetheart.” </em>
</p><p><em>She does, and the </em>Falcon<em> shoots off into hyperspace, the stars around them blurring, stretching off into the vastness of space—</em></p><p>Rey wakes with a start, the blue-white starlines still dancing in her vision.</p><p>She quickly realizes that she isn’t alone.</p><p>Ben lies beside her, his arm stretched innocently along the mattress between them—but the bunk is so narrow that it lies almost flush along her front, the heat of him seeping through her nightclothes. Her fingers rest atop his, just barely entwined.</p><p>It’s the first time she’s touched his skin since Ahch-To, and she knows it can’t be a coincidence that she’s had this dream now. There <em>are</em> no coincidences—not with them.</p><p>Ben is awake too, she realizes, and he slowly shifts his hand, curling his fingers around hers, his thumb tracing lightly across her knuckles.</p><p>As if in answer, the Force purrs around them, warm and gentle and contented as a tooka-cat in the sun.</p><p>“Did you see—” she whispers.</p><p>“Yes,” Ben replies, equally hushed. He carefully rolls onto his side, his face little more than a pale smudge in the darkness before her eyes.</p><p>Rey thought Jakku had taught her everything there is to know about hunger, but here, in this dim little room, wrapped up in blankets that are warm from their bodies, she suddenly knows that she’s never wanted anything as much as she wants what she saw, what she <em>felt,</em> in that dream— no, that <em>vision.</em> It was the sense of being wanted, of <em>belonging</em>, and the unshakeable certainty that wherever she went and whatever she did, he would always be beside her, to hold her and be held by her in turn.</p><p>“Ben…”</p><p>What, exactly, she’s asking for, even she can’t put a name to, but he lifts his free hand to her cheek as though he can sense the shape of it. At first his touch is as tentative as the brush of butterfly wings—but even so, it sends a shiver down her spine, and Rey sighs quietly.</p><p>Ben’s grip grows firmer, his hand curving around her cheek, his thumb stroking lightly along the line of her lip.</p><p>Rey leans in, close enough that she feels Ben’s nose skim along hers.</p><p>Something thuds in the hallway outside, followed by a muffled curse—a Resistance member trying to find their way back to their bunk in the dark.</p><p>It’s the auditory equivalent of a splash of ice water, and Rey scrambles backwards.</p><p>The bond slams shut, and she’s left clutching the sheets to her chest in a white-knuckled grip, staring at the dip in her thin mattress from a body which is no longer there.</p><p>Her lips still tingle, and she fights the urge to raise a shaking hand to her mouth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p></p><li>Boreas-V is a made-up planet. Its name comes from the <a href="https://www.theoi.com/Titan/AnemosBoreas.html">Greek god of winter and the north wind</a>.</li><p></p><li><a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Black_One"><i>Black One</i></a> is Poe's custom black X-Wing, seen in <i>The Force Awakens</i> and <i>The Last Jedi</i>. It was destroyed during the attack on the <i>Raddus</i>, but it seemed apt for Poe to ask for Rey's help salvaging whatever remained of his ship.</li><p></p><li>You can read the Code of the Sith in its entirety <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Code_of_the_Sith/Legends">here</a>. (It's pretty hot, tbh. More so if you imagine Adam Driver reading it.)</li><p></p><li>The title of this fic comes from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8u1vfsNpVpA">"Wait for Me (Reprise),"</a> a song from the musical Hadestown.</li>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And you’re sure this can sever a Force bond?” Rey looks dubiously at the item in question: a bracelet, a small loop of braided leather cords held together with a silver clasp and studded at intervals with small, roughly carved beads that look like they might be made of bone.</p><p>Kane Mosquin, dealer of curiosities, smiles politely. “’S’right, miss.”</p><p>His partner—Meroe, a Zabrak female—gives her a skeptical, mildly contemptuous once-over. “You really a Jedi, then?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>This is a rash plan, she knows—but what other choice does she have? While the Jedi texts do talk about Force bonds, there’s no mention of how to sever one. And if B— <em>Kylo’s </em>mind is so entwined with hers that they’re sharing visions now, then who’s to say he can’t use it—<em>her</em>—to find the Resistance, to finally wipe them all out?  </p><p>The bond is a weakness.</p><p>Rey will not be the weak link.</p><p>So here she is, having sliced into Connix’s comms array to find out the traders’ names, then stolen— no, <em>secretly borrowed</em> an X-Wing to fly to their chosen dingy Outer Rim outpost.  </p><p>“How much?” she asks, all business.</p><p>Kane names a price that, ancient Jedi artifact or no, is <em>far</em> over Rey’s limited budget. She promptly starts haggling with all the shrewdness borne of her years on Jakku, and eventually manages to bring the price down to a more reasonable amount. </p><p>He accepts the credits and nods toward the bracelet, still lying on its bed of stained cloth. “There you are, Miss Jedi. Pleasure doing business with you.”</p><p>He sounds far more satisfied than he should, considering how much less he’s getting from the sale, and Rey narrows her eyes. </p><p>Well, there’s only one way to test the merchandise.  </p><p>Rey slips the little bracelet onto her wrist and snaps the clasp shut.</p><p>Then she reels, her breath rushing out of her lungs in a harsh gasp.</p><p>She can’t feel the bond anymore, can’t feel the pulse of Ben’s mind in the back of hers—</p><p><em>—because she can’t feel the Force anymore</em>.</p><p>She may not have had it, or at least been aware of it, for very long, but after all that’s happened, it’s become so much a part of her that its sudden absence now makes her stomach swoop, the way it did when a rusted rung of a ladder gave way under her foot as she scaled the wrecks back on Jakku. The world feels like an old, cheap holo—things are blurred around the edges, sound is muffled, and even the very air prickles like pins-and-needles on her skin.</p><p>She fumbles at the clasp of the bracelet, tries to push it off her wrist, tries to tear it off— but nothing works, and the damned thing is still on her wrist. <em>No, no, OFF, get it <strong>OFF</strong>, she’ll bite off her own kriffing hand if she has to—</em></p><p>“Claw off your arm if you like, Jedi,” says Meroe, and Rey’s head snaps up, “but that thing’s not coming off without the key.” </p><p>She glares at the smirking dealers as if she could incinerate them with her eyes alone. “Give. It. To me.”</p><p>Kane smiles wider. “Sorry, miss.”</p><p>With a vicious snarl, she swings her quarterstaff at them. Without the Force, though, her reflexes are shot—both of them easily dodge her swing and step out of range. </p><p>As Meroe darts off to the side, Kane grabs the end of Rey’s staff and tries to pull it out of her hands. She digs in her heels and tightens her grip, and they grapple over the staff, knocking over boxes and smashing vases as they twist and pull. </p><p>A blaster goes off somewhere behind her—and Rey convulses, her limbs seizing up as her vision goes black.  </p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>She wakes in a dim room—some kind of storeroom, most likely, judging from the vague outlines of crates and tarp-draped piles of contraband that she can make out in the light seeping through the cracks around the door.</p><p>Her head is pounding, and her hands are cuffed behind her back, on the other side of the post she’s been tied to.</p><p>Rey blows out a long breath through pursed lips.</p><p>Okay. Stay calm. She’s been in worse situations than this.</p><p>Voices filter in from the front room, and she strains her ears to listen. It’s muffled, but she’s almost certain she recognizes the words “Supreme Leader… lightspeed… anytime now.”</p><p>Rey scowls into the darkness.</p><p>She did not escape fifteen years of sand, servitude, and starvation on Jakku just to be traded like a sack of spare parts again—especially not to <em>him. </em> </p><p>Keeping one eye on the door, she wiggles her wrists experimentally and curls her fingers up so she can trace the cuffs. These aren’t the new, high-end ones she’d been bound with on the <em>Supremacy</em>—they’re older and more worn, with a mechanical lock rather than an electronic one.</p><p>Rey smiles, giddy with sudden, almost inappropriate relief. These are Empire-era stun cuffs—she recognizes the shape of them from the time she’d found a similar pair, the key long since lost, in one of the Star Destroyer hulls. Plutt hadn’t wanted them, so she’d brought them back to her AT-AT and spent three nights amusing herself by learning to pick the lock.</p><p>She can <em>do</em> this.</p><p>Her legs are folded underneath her as she half-sits, half-kneels on the floor, so she shuffles her right foot closer to her bound hands until she can reach the lockpick stashed away at the top of her boot. More than once, she nearly drops the pick or gets it stuck—because picking a lock in the relative privacy of her own shelter is one thing, and picking a lock in the dark, with her hands behind her back, is another thing entirely.</p><p>She heaves a gusty sigh when she feels the lock give way and the cuffs go slack.</p><p>Footsteps approach the door, and Rey quickly lets her head hang down, closing her eyes as the door opens and dim yellow light spills into the room.</p><p>“Be quick about it,” Meroe calls out from the front room. “The Supreme Leader’s shuttle just broke atmo.”   </p><p>“Got it,” Kane replies as he approaches Rey.</p><p>She feels the cold metal of a blaster barrel under her chin. She forces herself to relax, to let her head roll limply as he tilts her face up to the light and turns it from side to side. </p><p>He scoffs, and she fights the urge to grimace at the puff of his breath against her nose. “Some Jedi.” Then he takes the blaster away and turns to go.</p><p>As Kane’s footsteps begin to recede, Rey opens her eyes, lunges forward and wallops him upside the head with the trailing stun cuffs.</p><p>He shouts in pain, but doesn’t get the chance to do much more. Rey shoves him hard, he falls forward, and there’s a sharp<em> crack</em> when his chin hits the floor. As he lies moaning in pain, Rey snatches the blaster from his limp hand and darts behind the door.    </p><p>“Kane?” Meroe comes into view, blaster at the ready as she advances one step at a time.</p><p>Rey leaps out from behind the door, smashing the butt of the blaster against the Zabrak’s jaw. She reels back with a growl, and Rey makes a grab for her blaster. They tussle over the weapon for a few minutes—Rey brings her own blaster down on Meroe’s knuckles again and again, but she is unfazed. Finally, Rey bites down on Meroe’s hand—and only then does the other woman recoil, with a hiss of pain and disgust.</p><p>“Give me the key,” Rey demands, aiming both blasters at Meroe’s chest.</p><p>Meroe slides the key out from an inside pocket of her vest and throws it at Rey’s feet, spitting on the floor between them.</p><p>Rey promptly hits her—and Kane too, for good measure—with a stun blast and then scoops up the key. She unlocks the bracelet and rips it off—then takes a moment to close her eyes and bask in the relief of having the Force back, sweet as sunlight cutting through the morning fog, sharpening her senses and loosening her muscles as it sweeps through her.</p><p>A child cries in the street outside, high and piercing over the rhythmic <em>thud-thud</em> of stormtrooper boots. Rey’s stomach drops when the sound abruptly cuts off, and she hurls the damned bracelet onto Meroe’s prone form. Stepping into the front room, she reaches out and her quarterstaff sails into her hand with a satisfying <em>slap.</em></p><p>She turns around and dashes past the storeroom, along a corridor and out through the back door. Once outside, she runs even faster, letting the Force guide her through the maze of narrow, shady alleys and side streets and directly to her X-Wing, hidden in the shadow of a crumbling warehouse.</p><p>She leaps up into the cockpit, rushes through the pre-flight checks, and—finally—takes off.</p><p>As she breaks atmosphere, the bond flares up in the back of her mind—as if he were trying to Force-pull her back, or perhaps calling for her to wait.</p><p>She shoves it firmly away and concentrates on piloting the ship.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>She feels him before she hears him, back in her quarters on Boreas-V. The Force is a maelstrom around them, roiling with the strength of his emotions: confusion, betrayal, rage, <em>hurt.</em></p><p>“<em>Why?</em>”</p><p>Rey takes a deep, fortifying breath and turns to face him. “You know why,” she states, trying to mimic the poise and dignity she’s seen in Leia whenever she addresses the troops.  </p><p>Kylo stares at her for a long moment, his jaw working soundlessly. “Yes,” he bites out. “Because you’re a coward. Always hiding from the truth.”  </p><p>It’s a good thing her quarters are at the end of a nearly deserted hallway—there’s no one around to hear her having it out with thin air. “I’m a Jedi—”  </p><p>He gives a short, caustic laugh. “There, see? Another lie. You have too much darkness in you for that, Rey.” She stiffens, and Kylo leans closer, a wolf scenting blood. <em>“Just like me.”</em></p><p>“I’m <em>nothing</em> like you! You’re the Supreme Leader of the First Order—” And oh, if words were knives, she would be throwing hers straight into his face. <em>How dare he look at her like that, with dark eyes burning too bright in a face gone too pale</em>. “You rip children from their families and twist them into slaves to die for your war. You blow up entire planets when they stand up to you. You want to snuff out the light in you so badly that you’d see your own parents dead for it.” </p><p>Kylo flinches, and Rey feels the rush of vindication. “You’re delusional if you think we could ever be anything but enemies.”</p><p><em>“Enough,”</em> he hisses—and that single word thrums with so much anger and pain that she stops cold. Every line of his body fairly vibrates with tension as he struggles to master himself, the Force gathering around him like a bank of storm clouds.</p><p>When he speaks again, his words are tight and clipped, as if he has to force them out through a throat too choked by emotion. “I’ve had enough.”   </p><p>With this, Kylo vanishes from her sight.</p><p>The moment he does, Rey feels something like the slam of a heavy door reverberate through the bond, shaking her down to her very atoms. She reaches out and finds the Force between them like a wall of iron—smooth, solid, and so cold it <em>burns</em>.</p><p>She knows Kylo is on the other side, but no matter how much she pokes and prods, she can’t find a crack. There’s no give to the dark mass of it.</p><p>It’s what she wanted, isn’t it?</p><p>Rey sinks numbly onto the edge of her bunk, then flops down and curls into a tight ball beneath the blankets, clutching them to her as if they can shut out the lingering chill that’s lodged beneath her ribs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p></p><li>Kane Mosquin and Meroe are original characters. The <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Zabrak">Zabrak species</a>, however, are not. They're the species that Darth Maul is part of, and "were considered to be proud, self-determined, and arrogant to some, and they were one of the most independent species in the galaxy."</li><p></p><li>I imagine the Force-suppressing bracelet to be made of <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ysalamir">ysalamir</a> leather and bones.</li><p></p><li><a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Stun_cuffs">Stun cuffs</a> are the handcuffs that Luke attempts to put on Chewie in <i>A New Hope</i>.</li><p>Next chapter goes up Feb 16th.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>cw:</b> brief depiction of a slave auction (not featuring any named characters). If you'd like to skip that part, it starts at "A line of sentients..." and ends at "As they ponder..."</p>
<p>
  
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Rough day?” Finn asks, looking up with a sympathetic grimace.</p>
<p>Rose sits down at the table and takes a big bite of carb-roll before she answers. “Sort of? Recruitment on Plutus was a bust. But that’s not the weird part.” At her companions’ inquisitive looks, she continues, “They didn’t want to join us—but not because they were <em>afraid</em> of the First Order.”  </p>
<p>“So, what, they’re First Order sympathizers?” Poe asks incredulously. “But—"</p>
<p>“Not exactly.” Even after the hours-long journey back to base to think, Rose looks as if she still can’t quite believe what she’s saying. “Everyone I talked to said that two months ago, the local governors were ordered to lower the workers’ quotas. Taxes too. They’re not about to put themselves in danger now that they’re making a living wage.”</p>
<p>Rey’s eyes widen. “That’s just after Snoke died.”</p>
<p>“You’re telling me Kylo Ren took over the First Order so he could play at being Good Queen Satine?” Poe scoffs, the sound dripping with contempt. “I don’t buy it.”</p>
<p>Finn shakes his head. “It’s gotta be some kind of trick. Ren’s a killer, not a leader or— or some kind of <em>savior</em>.”</p>
<p>Rose gives both men a pointed look over the rim of her cup. “I’m just telling you what they told me.”</p>
<p>As the conversation turns to the discussion of other, more promising recruitment sites, Rey tunes them out, staring thoughtfully down at her tray.</p>
<p>This is all the news she’s heard of Kylo— Ben— whatever name he goes by these days— since their argument. He still hasn’t opened the bond, and whenever she reaches out, the Force remains as unyielding as it was the first time.</p>
<p><em>Not</em>, of course, that she’s been reaching out to him often. It’s just—</p>
<p>Back on Jakku, there had been a particular Star Destroyer hull she’d always passed on her way back to Niima Outpost from a day of scavenging in the Graveyard. She’d passed it so many times, day in and day out, that she never paid attention to it anymore.</p>
<p>Then, one day, it was simply <em>gone</em>, finally consumed by the sinking fields it sat in. Its sudden absence—the unexpected patch of searing blue sky where for years there had been jagged spires and sharp, slanting lines—on her route had startled her enough that she’d jerked her speeder to a stop and spent a few precious minutes blinking in the harsh afternoon sun, wondering if she’d somehow gotten lost.  </p>
<p>Rey feels something like that now, in the sudden, startling loneliness of her own mind.</p>
<p>✲✲✲</p>
<p>Weeks pass and become months.</p>
<p>Reports of lowered taxes and fair labor quotas aren’t the only thing spreading through the systems where the Resistance tries, with less and less success, to bolster their ranks. More and more people whisper fearfully about the Knights of Ren, the way they leave a trail of carnage in their wake wherever they appear—which, more often than not, is on particularly unsavory Outer Rim planets.</p>
<p>Rey sees them for herself when she and Finn are sent to Serech to sabotage a First Order supply line. It’s supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation, but on the way back to their shuttle, they pass through a bustling marketplace. A line of sentients, both human and alien, stand on a platform, dressed in rags and chained at the neck and wrists. Hard-faced slavers strut around them, barking higher and higher numbers as the crowd shouts and jostles.</p>
<p>Rey spots a human child near the end of the file—a half-starved little girl of about five or six years old, staring out at the crowd with round, terrified eyes—and a raw, visceral fury blazes up in her. “We have to do something.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like this any more than you do,” Finn says, “but <em>how</em>?”</p>
<p>As they ponder the question, an eerie hush suddenly falls over the marketplace. The crowd parts to make way for a group of six figures, black-masked and black-armored. They radiate barely-contained malice, the Force seething around them like a wild beast straining at the end of a tether as they stride towards the platform. Rey pulls her hood lower over her head and scrambles to mask her Force signature, like turning a dimmer switch so low that only the barest flicker remains.  </p>
<p>Finn gulps hard. “The Knights of Ren.” He turns to Rey, eyes wide with terror. “We gotta get out of here. If they find you, they’ll take you straight to Ren—”</p>
<p>“And leave these people at their mercy?” she hisses.</p>
<p>How could she have thought, even for a moment, that Kylo had changed?</p>
<p>One of the Knights tilts his head, a carrion bird considering its meal. “Boys?”</p>
<p>They attack, guns blazing and blades swinging with vicious abandon. The marketgoers flee, screaming, as the slaves cower atop the platform. Rey’s hand flies to her belt, fingers closing around the long hilt clipped there.</p>
<p>Then she stops and stares as one of the Knights shoves a male Rodian aside to cut down the human slaver cowering behind him. The Rodian cringes away, but the Knight ignores him and stalks away to bury his axe in the back of another fleeing slaver.</p>
<p>In short order, the slavers all lie dead. The slaves, meanwhile, stand unharmed amidst the blood and gore. The Knights heft their giant blades, cleaver and scythe and axe—then, after a long, tense moment, during which the slaves' fear and the Knights' bloodlust swirl sickeningly together in the Force, they slice the slaves' collars and break their chains.</p>
<p>Not one of them bleeds.</p>
<p>“Go,” barks one of the Knights, sweeping his arm out over the square. When the slaves gawk, open-mouthed, at him, he shakes the cannon mounted on his outstretched arm for emphasis. <em>“Go</em>. Shoo. Scat!”</p>
<p>Rey glances at Finn and finds him looking about as bewildered as she feels.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you going to give them the rehabilitation datapacks?” asks one Knight as the slaves scatter.</p>
<p>“We already freed them,” Arm-Cannon replies. “You want us to babysit them too?”</p>
<p>Another Knight shrugs, slinging his cleaver casually over his shoulders. “If they can’t make it on their own, they don’t deserve to be free.”</p>
<p>A fourth Knight growls in annoyance. “‘Kill the slavers. Free the slaves.’ Ain’t the way of the Ren.” He smacks the haft of his war club into his palm. “I haven’t had any fun in <em>months</em>, dammit! I want to let loose.”</p>
<p>“It’s not worth the hell Ren’d raise if he found out,” insists the first Knight.</p>
<p>“Why, Vicrul,” sneers the axe-wielder, “don’t tell me you’re going soft like the <em>Supreme Leader</em>.” He looks around at his fellows and jerks his head sharply. “Come on. Let’s go find a halfway decent cantina.” </p>
<p>“What was that?” Rey finally manages, after the Knights have left the market.</p>
<p>Finn shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I’m getting you out of here before they change their minds and come back. Let’s go!”</p>
<p>The Knights’ words echo in Rey’s mind all through the long journey back to base. Apparently, the Supreme Leader of the First Order—</p>
<p>—has been sending his Knights to kill slavers and free slaves.</p>
<p>She can’t make sense of it.</p>
<p>Unbidden, she remembers the night he’d shut himself off from the bond—the way she’d thrown all the First Order’s crimes into his face. Could he have—</p>
<p>She shakes her head sharply, scoffing at her own foolishness. No, of course not. She’s <em>nothing</em>, isn’t she? Certainly not so important as to have affected galactic policy with a few spirited accusations.   </p>
<p>Then had this been Ben’s plan all along? Had this been what he’d meant on the <em>Supremacy</em>—the “new order” he’d spoken of as they stood amid the burning wreckage of the old one?</p>
<p>That doesn’t quite fit, either. Ben is many things, but he’s never struck her as someone who wanted to be some— some wise, noble father to the galaxy.</p>
<p>Rey sighs, staring at the stars blurring past the shuttle’s viewport. She almost wishes the bond would open again, even just once—so she could ask him what he’s playing at. Even when they were at their most hostile, he’d never lied to her, and she’s getting tired of silence and confusion.   </p>
<p>✲✲✲</p>
<p><em>“First in tonight’s top stories,” </em>intones the HoloNet newscaster,<em> “Supreme Leader Kylo Ren of the First Order has announced that there will be an inquiry into the Hosnian Cataclysm.”</em></p>
<p>The command room dissolves into disbelieving shouts and feverish speculation, until Leia silences the gathered Resistance with a firm, “Quiet, please.” </p>
<p>The broadcast segues into a holovid of Kylo delivering his statement. <em>“The destruction of the Hosnian system was genocide. Such barbarism is a relic from the days of the Empire and has no place in the First Order.” </em>He looks straight into the holocam as he continues, and even through a screen, his eyes are intense enough that Rey’s breath catches in her throat. <em>“Supreme Leader Snoke sanctioned the crime. I removed him from power myself”</em>—Rey hears a whisper go through the room, sees more than a few pairs of eyes flicker in her direction—<em>“and I will not rest until his accomplices are brought to justice.”     </em></p>
<p>Beside her, Rose nods curtly. “Good.”</p>
<p>Finn’s jaw drops. “No way.” </p>
<p>Poe shoves a hand through his hair, the dark curls sticking up in even greater disarray. “They’re tearing each other apart from the inside.” He turns to them and breathes an incredulous laugh. “This is <em>great.</em>” </p>
<p>Rey looks over at Leia. The general stands at the front of the crowd, seemingly unfazed by the clamor around her. Her arms are folded across her chest, and there’s an inscrutable look on her face as she stares at the viewscreen.</p>
<p>What must she be thinking now, Rey wonders, as she watches her son denounce his old master and everything he stood for?</p>
<p>Someone had paused the broadcast just as Ben finished speaking, leaving his face frozen in repose on the screen, and Rey looks back and forth between mother and son. The strong angles and long lines of Ben’s face are all Han—but the dark eyes, the proud bearing, the stubborn set of his full mouth are all Leia.</p>
<p>For all he had tried to deny his family, to cut them out of his life and his soul—perhaps Ben Solo will prove to be his mother’s son after all.</p>
<p>It takes Rey a moment to recognize the fragile, fluttering warmth in her chest as <em>hope.</em></p>
<p>✲✲✲</p>
<p>That night, she has another vision.  </p>
<p>
  <em>The sickening squelch of a vibroblade sinking into flesh and bone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Leia staggers, then collapses to her knees, her cane clattering to the floor. She covers her face, her shoulders heaving.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A voice, reedy and cruel, sneering, “Give my regards to your mother.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ben kneels before an unseen foe, his pale, blood-spattered face tilted up, his lips drawn back from his teeth in an animal snarl. Everything below his right elbow is gone, the stump of his arm oozing blood and gore. He’s weaponless, helpless, the shadow of his own death blow reflected in his eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Chewbacca throws his head back, his mournful howl ringing out, long and loud, over the snowy plains of Boreas-V.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That same sound magnified a hundredfold as a line of Wookiees march in collars and chains. Stormtroopers guard the file, brandishing vibro-axes and stun prods.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>More and yet more stormtroopers—thousands of them—filling a stadium. They raise their fists in unison, saluting—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Supreme Leader Hux!”</em>
</p>
<p>Rey bolts upright in her bunk with a cry.</p>
<p>Throwing her blankets aside, not even bothering with a coat, she races out of her quarters and through the halls to Leia’s office. “General!” she calls, knocking frantically on the door. “I need to speak with you!”</p>
<p>Leia opens the door, her eyes briefly widening at Rey’s disheveled state. She guides her inside with a gentle touch on her shoulder, closing the door behind her. “What is it, dear?”</p>
<p>“It’s Ben. He’s in danger.” When Leia looks sharply at her, confusion and concern chasing each other across her face, Rey explains, “I had a vision. It’s Hux. He’s going to turn on him.” Her voice drops to a horrified whisper. “They’ll <em>kill</em> him.”</p>
<p>Leia closes her eyes at that, then lays her palm over them and presses down hard. The Force shudders around her as she takes a few deep breaths. At last, she says, “That’s not very surprising. Ky—” She stops and purses her lips, like the moniker itself chokes her. Then she shakes her head and corrects herself. “<em>Ben’s</em> policies are nothing like what the First Order was used to under Snoke’s rule. I imagine his generals aren’t too pleased about that.”</p>
<p>“We have to help him,” Rey declares—then, when Leia arches an eyebrow, backtracks a little. “I don’t like the First Order any more than you do, but— but if—” She stumbles over his name. It suddenly feels too— <em>intimate</em> a thing to say, now that she remembers she’s speaking with his <em>mother</em>—who is also her commanding officer.</p>
<p>“If he can make the galaxy better,” she tries again, “shouldn’t he be allowed to live?”</p>
<p>Leia nods, her lips quivering imperceptibly. “It <em>would</em> be a damn sight easier to negotiate with Ben than with a warmonger like Armitage Hux.”</p>
<p>“I have to warn him.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>Rey stares at her in confusion. She hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. “But— but the Resistance, they won’t understand, they’ll—”</p>
<p>Leia holds up a hand. “Let me handle the Resistance,” she says firmly. “You go save my son.”</p>
<p>The conversation is brief after that. If Rey succeeds and Ben remains in power, Leia will begin preparing for peace talks—both drafting the initial articles of negotiation, and convincing the Resistance that Ben no longer poses a threat to them.</p>
<p>“How will you know?”</p>
<p>Leia smiles, small and secret. “A mother always knows, my dear.”</p>
<p>Rey nods and turns to go, ignoring the old, familiar twinge behind her ribs that flares to life at Leia's words. She has a job to do. There's no time to mourn something that was never hers. </p>
<p>“And Rey?”</p>
<p>She looks back at Leia—and for the first time tonight, she sees not the regal, fearless general of the Resistance, but a weary, heartsick mother, who wants to see her son safe at last.</p>
<p>Leia hesitates, clearly trying to find the right words for all the fear and <em>hope</em> swirling in the Force around her. At last, she says, her voice hitching, “Let him know he’s loved.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          
<p></p><li> Plutus is another made-up planet, named after <a href="https://www.theoi.com/Georgikos/Ploutos.html">the Greek god of wealth</a>. </li>
<p></p><li> <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Satine_Kryze">Satine Kryze</a> was the Duchess of Mandalore during the Clone Wars. She was (in)famous for her pacifism, which clashed with traditional Mandalorian martial culture. Her other claim to fame is being Obi-Wan Kenobi's One Who Got Away. </li>
<p></p><li>Serech is yet another made-up planet, named after <a href="http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Fen_of_Serech">the site of a major battle in The Silmarillion</a>.</li>
<p></p><li>The Knights of Ren need no introduction, and all information about their names, weapons, and personalities (such as they are) can be found <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Knights_of_Ren#Membership">here</a>.</li><p>Next chapter goes up Feb 18th.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The First Order fleet looms before her like a swarm of Hrelan bees. In the middle is the Supreme Leader’s— <em>Ben’s</em> flagship, and all around it, Star Destroyers hover, ready to fire at the word of their master.</p><p>Staring out the viewport of her ancient cargo shuttle—she’d deliberately chosen the most nonthreatening ship in the Resistance’s tiny fleet—Rey gnaws nervously at her lip.</p><p>Here she is, taking another gamble. She’s lost count of how many she’s taken in these past six months alone. It’s almost as if, on some level, she’s making up for twenty years of stagnation on Jakku by taking as many risks as possible within the shortest amount of time.</p><p>What would the old Rey—she of the triple buns and the unwavering, fruitless patience—say if she could see herself now?</p><p>She shakes her head sharply. She’d left that Rey behind in the mirror cave on Ahch-To—or, perhaps, even further behind, in her old AT-AT the night she met BB-8.</p><p>
  <em>Enough waiting.</em>
</p><p>Taking a deep breath, she switches on her communications array. “Attention! This is Rey of Jakku, the Last Jedi. I’m surrendering myself to the Supreme Leader.”</p><p>There’s a long, pregnant silence—even through the comms system, she can feel the poor officer’s astonishment. At last, he replies, “Proceed.”</p><p>Rey flies straight into the flagship’s hangar, attended by a phalanx of TIE fighters. She tries not to be hurt when, upon disembarking, she’s met not by Ben himself, but by a squadron of stormtroopers. He couldn’t have sent her a clearer message if he tried—but Rey is every bit as stubborn as he is, and she has not come all this way to fail.</p><p>They cuff her, take her ‘saber away, and march her into a turbolift. In the small space, the Force is almost oppressively thick with their fear of her. She grits her teeth and stares straight ahead.</p><p>When the doors open, the stormtroopers march her forward, almost shoving her over in their haste to do their job and be gone.</p><p>Snoke’s throne room had been a rich, gaudy scarlet, but Ben’s is— <em>black.</em> The walls, floor, and ceiling are all black durasteel, polished to such a shine that Rey can see her reflection in the floor like a dark, wavy mirror as she moves.</p><p>And yet, it’s not oppressively dark. There are recessed lights set into the floor around the perimeter of the room, casting a muted glow <em>just</em> bright enough to see by. There are also thick panes of reinforced transparisteel set into the walls at regular intervals, making it look as if the stars themselves are jostling for an audience with the Supreme Leader. </p><p>If the stakes weren’t so high, she would smile. She wonders if Ben realizes that his throne room is a perfect manifestation of his Force signature: dark shot through with light—scattered and faint, but <em>light </em>nonetheless.    </p><p>And in the center of it all—</p><p>The Knights of Ren, three on each side, flank a throne—a surprisingly simple thing, just smooth gray stone cut in sharp, severe lines. Ben sits atop it, one leg thrown out carelessly in front of him and his chin propped up on his fist. He rolls his head upright, almost lazily, as she approaches. The fabric of his doublet pulls across his broad chest as he moves, glimmering faintly in the dim light—some kind of embroidery, she guesses, mildly surprised.</p><p>“Scavenger.”</p><p>It’s not the first time she’s heard his voice, after six months of nothing—but that holovid had <em>not</em> done it justice, and Rey fights back a shiver at the sound of his deep, smooth baritone.</p><p>In the quiet of her own mind, she admits—at last—that she’s missed it— <em>him</em>.    </p><p>“<em>Ben,”</em> she breathes. </p><p>The Knights shift on their feet, their helmeted heads turning toward each other, clearly smirking underneath their masks.   </p><p>A stormtrooper edges up to the throne and passes Rey’s ‘saber to Ben. He dismisses the squadron with an absent wave of his hand, inspecting the weapon with a scholar’s fascination.</p><p>“A saberstaff?” he says, when he sees the elongated hilt. He thumbs the switch at one end, igniting the jagged blue blade. A flash of some emotion crosses his face, almost too quickly for her to follow. “Interesting choice.”</p><p>Rey shrugs, trying to look casual. “I improvised.”</p><p>She really had, too—she’d crafted the hilt from her own quarterstaff and used the kyber crystal halves from the Skywalker ‘saber to power the blades. It isn’t perfect, but it’s <em>hers—</em>more so now than ever before, she thinks, <em>because</em> it’s not perfect.</p><p>He inclines his head—and maybe some things haven’tchanged after all, because he has that look in his eyes—from the forest, when the Skywalker ‘saber had flown into her hand instead of his. It isn’t anger or jealousy, but a kind of awe which makes her stomach wriggle excitedly.</p><p>But there’ll be time enough to examine that later—she hopes—so Rey decides to bring their strange impasse to an end. “Look, I didn’t come here to chat about my ‘saber.”</p><p>“No, I suppose not.” Ben powers off the blade and, pointedly, clips the hilt onto his belt. “Did you come to test it on me?”</p><p>“What? No!”</p><p>“Do your friends at least know you’re here this time?”</p><p>She lifts her chin. “Yes. I came here with your mother’s blessing.”</p><p>Ben scoffs, short and scornful. “Did she send you to save my soul? Bat your eyes at me so I’d come crawling back to kiss her boots?”</p><p>“Oh, for—” Rey sputters, just barely resisting the urge to stamp her foot or growl in frustration. “Will you stop being such a— a damn <em>laserbrain </em>for one second and listen to me?”</p><p>A couple of the Knights snigger, heedless of Ben’s warning glare.</p><p>“I had another vision,” Rey explains, and Ben turns back to her. “You’re in <em>danger</em>, Ben. We couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. Neither of us. Leia <em>loves</em> you. And—” She stops short, the reality of what she’d been about to say hitting her square in the face.</p><p>She could change tack, use one of the many oh-so-rational arguments she’d rehearsed during her journey from Boreas-V, but none of them are the real reason why she’d risked everything—again—to come here, to save him. </p><p><em>Always hiding from the truth</em>, he’d taunted her, on the night he’d shut her out. And he’d been right. </p><p>But she sees now that she can’t keep hiding if she’s going to succeed.</p><p>She takes a deep breath— lets it out— and says, “Your mother loves you, and so do I.”    </p><p>The throne room falls silent, as if everyone in it is holding their breath.</p><p>The Knights’ heads turn slowly from Rey to Ben, and the Force thrums with their interest, keen as an ebon hawk spotting prey.</p><p>Ben himself is frozen on his throne, and were it not for the twitch beneath his eye and the harsh bob of his throat, Rey would think he’d turned to stone where he sits.</p><p><em>Ben, </em>she thinks, refusing to look away from him. <em>Please listen to me. </em></p><p>Her thoughts beat against his mental barrier, like the waves crashing against the towering cliffs of Ahch-To.   </p><p>At last, he draws a shuddering breath and leans forward. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Rey quickly repeats what she told Leia. “I saw Hux turning on you. I saw him taking over, and you—” A chill washes over her at the memory of him, bloodied and at bay, waiting for the killing blow.</p><p>Ben’s eyes dart over her face for a long, silent moment before he answers. “I know.”</p><p>Rey’s jaw drops. “You <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“I knew it was only a matter of time before Hux tried to seize power. It’s all he’s ever wanted.” His voice drops, like he’s speaking to himself more than her. “But why—” It doesn’t take long before he finds the answer he’s looking for. “Of course. The inquiry. But even so, he’s too much of a coward to act unless he knew he’d succeed. And to succeed, he’d need—”</p><p>Both Ben and Rey’s eyes widen—   </p><p>—just as one of the Knights swings his axe straight towards Ben’s head.</p><p>Ben leaps aside, and the axe thuds uselessly into the backrest of the throne. Snarling, the Knight tries to tug it free, then jumps back as Ben ignites his ‘saber and lunges at him. </p><p>“Ben!” Rey cries, the sound choked off as another Knight appears behind her and grabs her in a headlock, the haft of his war club tight across her throat.</p><p>“Sweet little thing, isn’t she, Ren?” he rumbles, with a lewd snicker. “Drop your ‘saber or she dies.”</p><p>“Ushar.” Ben’s voice is as cold and dark and unforgiving as a black hole. “Let. Her. Go.” </p><p>“No dice, Ren.” The club tightens further, and Rey gags as it presses into her windpipe. “We’re done taking orders. That ginger weasel will give us free reign to do as we please once he’s got what he wants.”</p><p>Ben stares at them, his eyes wild and his jaw clenched tight with rage. His gaze shifts to the other Knights as they draw closer, slowly hemming in their prey, and back again to Rey and Ushar. </p><p>Rey grits her teeth, then twists sharply to the side. She rams her elbow into Ushar’s solar plexus, using the Force to augment the blow. He wheezes and reels back, his grip slackening. Rey ducks beneath the club, grabs it in her bound hands, and smashes it over his head.</p><p>The cuffs on her wrists beep and fall away, and Rey’s head snaps towards Ben. He has his hand outstretched toward her, and he jerks his chin in a short nod of acknowledgement before turning back to face the Knights, ‘saber held high.</p><p>Rey tosses the club aside and reaches out. Her saberstaff flies off his belt and into her waiting hands. She ignites the blades, takes her stance—</p><p>—and the throne room dissolves into chaos.</p><p>Ushar, who’s retrieved his club, and another Knight—this one with a scythe—charge at her, swinging their weapons down with brute strength. Rey whirls and parries, her blades blurring into a crackling blue wheel with her speed. The Knights pull back, but seem unfazed. </p><p>“Ren’s gone soft for a <em>girl</em>,” says the scythe-wielder. He scoffs, the sound even more harsh and grating through the vocal modulator of his helmet. “Typical.” </p><p>“Now, Vicrul, I don’t think she’s made Ren <em>soft</em>,” says Ushar airily. “Well, not all of him, anyway,” he amends, laughing as he swings at Rey’s legs. </p><p>Rey snarls, blocking the blow and pushing him back.</p><p>A blaster goes off somewhere behind her. Rey’s head snaps around. The bolt hovers in the air, inches from her face, held back by Ben’s quick command of the Force from the other side of the room. She flings herself out of the way, and the bolt flies into the chestplate of another Knight—the one with the massive arm-cannon.</p><p><em>One down. </em>She breathes a quick sigh of relief.</p><p>The sound turns to a shriek of fury as Vicrul’s scythe hooks around one end of her saber hilt. They struggle, but Vicrul soon manages to twist the hilt out of Rey’s hands. It goes spinning off across the floor, but before she can recover it, Ushar is on her, forcing her back with a flurry of vicious swings.</p><p>Rey bites her lip as she dodges and weaves. Vicrul joins the fray, and it’s all she can do to evade both Knights at once. She needs something, <em>anything</em>—</p><p>In desperation, she darts in close to Ushar, grabs his club just underneath the head, and tries to wrestle it out of his hands.</p><p>He growls in annoyance and backhands her.</p><p>She flies backward and hits the floor hard, spots blooming in her vision and the taste of copper filling her mouth.</p><p>From the other side of the room, there’s a muffled grunt of pain and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.</p><p><em>Ben!</em> Rey’s heart leaps into her throat. <em>Is he all right? </em>Oh, what she wouldn’t give for the bond right now— </p><p>“Feisty girl,” says Vicrul as he and Ushar approach, weapons raised for the kill. “Seems almost a shame to kill you.”</p><p>“Beg, little Jedi,” croons Ushar, curling his fingers tighter around his club. “I’ll make it nice and quick if you do.”</p><p>Rey struggles up onto her elbows and spits a mouthful of blood at the Knights’ feet. They raise their weapons higher. She stares defiantly up at them as she braces for the killing blow.</p><p>Suddenly, she feels—</p><p>
  <em>Ben—</em>
</p><p><em>—</em>his mind, his soul, his very <em>self </em>intertwining with hers, filling up the empty, aching places she’d sealed up and shied away from all these six lonely months.</p><p>He’s the coolness of water on her parched throat. He’s the warmth of a thick cloak wrapped around her on a freezing night.  </p><p>He’s everything she’s ever needed, ever <em>wanted</em>.</p><p><em>Rey. </em>His voice echoes in her mind—taut with the tension of the fight, and yet shaded with an awe, a <em>reverence</em>, that mirrors her own.</p><p>Her own mental voice is choked with relief, with the <em>rightness</em> of it all. <em>Ben.</em></p><p>
  <em>Catch! </em>
</p><p>Suddenly there’s a hilt in her hand, and as heavy as the attached blade is, she swings it up and out in a wide arc. Vicrul and Ushar leap back out of range with cries of shock and fury.   </p><p>Rey grins savagely as she leaps to her feet and lifts the blade—an enormous black cleaver, she notes after a quick glance down at it. </p><p>Now <em>she </em>presses the attack, and when a lucky swing lands against the haft of Ushar’s club, she pushes down hard on the cleaver. Her arms vibrate with the effort, painful rattles shaking her entire upper body—and the club shears into two beneath her blade.</p><p>As if on cue, Ben pushes a terse warning into her mind.</p><p>Somewhere to her left, Rey hears the telltale rush of air that precedes the opening of the bond. Her ears pop as she ducks to the right—and a vibroblade comes whistling out of the air to bury itself in Ushar’s throat. </p><p>“What in blazes—” Vicrul shouts as his comrade drops to the floor with a sickly death gurgle.</p><p>Rey doesn’t give him time to regroup. She continues attacking, cleaver and scythe clashing again and again as she pushes him back.</p><p>At last, she spots her saberstaff hilt on the floor. She swings the cleaver upward, and as Vicrul brings his scythe down to block it, she reaches out. The saberstaff flies into her outstretched hand. She drops the cleaver and leaps back.</p><p>Vicrul stumbles, thrown off-balance—and Rey ignites her blades straight through his gut.</p><p>As the corpse drops to the floor, Rey glances around. Four of the Knights are dead, and a cloud of thick, choking smoke hangs near the middle of the room. She can’t find the one with the blaster rifle, but she can see Ben dueling the other Knight amid the smoke, his ‘saber flashing bright scarlet in the gloom. </p><p>She stoops to collect the vibroblade from Ushar’s corpse. <em>Heads up!</em> she thinks at Ben, picturing the bond as a sort of invisible wind tunnel, down which she launches the vibroblade at his opponent. It hits with the sickening sizzle of burning leather and flesh.</p><p><em>Thanks,</em> Ben replies, punctuated by a quick twirl of his ‘saber. Rey feels her stomach jolt happily, and she tightens her grip on her own weapon. It’s time to end this.</p><p>They find the last Knight atop the dais, half-hidden behind the throne. He vacillates for a moment, the barrel of his blaster rifle swinging back and forth between Rey and Ben as they approach from either side. Finally, he fires at Rey—then curses as Ben freezes the bolt in mid-flight.</p><p>Rey swoops in with her saberstaff, her blades slashing and swinging in deadly arcs. He pulls out a vibroblade and parries her attacks, desperate and vicious—a trapped animal. One swing misses Rey’s forearm by a hair’s breadth, leaving a charred line over the top layer of her arm wraps. As if spurred to action, Ben attacks the Knight from behind, a savage glint in his eyes.</p><p>Between the two of them, he doesn’t stand a chance.</p><p>Two jagged blades—one blue, one red—slice into him from opposite directions, and the last Knight of Ren falls to the ground in two smoking halves as Rey and Ben’s ‘sabers cross.   </p><p>Their eyes meet over their locked blades, purple light shifting and dancing across their faces—so like another battle, another dance, another time and place—</p><p>—and yet not so, because now the bond hums around them, as charged as sparks skipping over their skin, and there’s something else too—a pull between them that’s always been there, as deep and primal as the Force itself.</p><p>As one, they abandon their ‘sabers, the hilts falling from their hands, and—<em>finally</em>—they crash into each other, their lips meeting in a fierce, exultant kiss.  </p><p>It’s there again—the same hunger she’d felt the night they had their shared vision and woke beside each other. But now there’s nothing to stop her, no one to recoil in disgust and betrayal at the sight of her kissing the Supreme Leader of the First Order. For the first time in months—perhaps in her whole life—the small, doubting voice in the back of her mind is silent, and Rey gladly gives herself over to sensation, closing her eyes and letting the world slip away until there’s nothing left but the taste, the feel, the sound of Ben.</p><p>There’s nothing shy or sweet about this. She feels <em>wild</em>—drunk on the lingering thrill of battle, on the relief of having saved Ben’s life, on the joy of her soul made whole.</p><p>Ben feels it too. His arms wrap around her back, crushing her to him almost too tightly for breath. His lips move feverishly against hers, coaxing them open. His tongue slips into her mouth, less to caress and more to claim.</p><p>But he’s not the only one. She’s taking what she wants too, with the instincts borne of fifteen years of scavenging.</p><p>Her arms twine around his neck, her fingers sinking into his hair—so thick and <em>soft</em>, softer than anything she’s ever touched before. She clutches it tight, almost pulling it with the strength of her grip—and shivers when he groans, the sound vibrating deliciously through his chest and into hers.</p><p>In her ardor, she bites down on his full, pillowy lower lip, and, when she tastes blood, releases it and laps at the tiny wounds instead, as if to soothe the sting of her teeth.</p><p>Eventually, they break apart, chests heaving and lungs burning for want of air. Rey opens her eyes to the sight of Ben licking his own lip, the beginnings of a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.</p><p>“Ow,” he murmurs.</p><p>Rey presses her lips together, trying and not quite succeeding to hold back a grin. “Sorry.”</p><p>He lets out a quiet huff of a laugh and just— <em>stares</em> at her for a long, silent moment. The bond twines around them, alight not with the wildfire of their kiss, but with the steady glow of mutual satisfaction.</p><p>Ben blinks first, a man waking from a dream. “We—” He clears his throat. “We should deal with Hux.”</p><p>Rey draws in a reluctant breath, but nods.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>Hux is on the bridge, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind him as he stares out at the First Order’s fleet. He turns at the sound of heavy footsteps—then freezes when he sees Rey standing beside Ben, a hand resting on her unlit saberstaff. </p><p>“<em>What</em>,” he spits, eyes moving back and forth between them, “is the meaning of this?”</p><p>“General Hux,” Ben intones, “you are relieved of your command and under arrest for treason.” He glances around the bridge, at the officers gawking at the standoff between their two commanders. “Take him away.”</p><p>Hux splutters with rage, his pale face turning a splotchy red. The bridge officers snap to attention, their momentary stupor broken, and step toward him, wrist-cuffs at the ready. Beside her, Ben lets out a breath and turns to leave—just as Hux pulls out a blaster and fires at his back.</p><p>Rey ignites her blades and leaps forward with a snarl of rage, deflecting the bolt into the wall with a whirl of her staff. Then she slashes upward, and the blaster falls to the deck, split in two.</p><p>Hux recoils with a yelp, shaking out the fingers of his newly empty, burned hand.   </p><p>Rey glances over at Ben, who had whipped back around at the sound of blasterfire. Her heart thuds in her chest at the look in his eyes—awe mixed with pride and with trust, the look from one partner to another.</p><p>She steps forward until she’s less than an arm’s length from Hux, so close she can see the beads of fear-sweat on his forehead gleaming in the blue light of her 'saber. “Traitor,” she says, as cold and implacable as an empress.</p><p>The last she sees of Armitage Hux, as the officers finally surround him, is the tight, furious line of his jaw, and the look of bitter defeat in his pale green eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Animals, but IN SPACE!:</p><p></p><li> <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hrelan_bee">Hrelan bees</a> </li><br/><li> <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ebon_hawk">Ebon hawk</a> </li><p>Final chapter goes up Feb 20th.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why?”</p><p>Rey looks up from smoothing a bacta patch over a cut on Ben’s upper arm. “Why what?”</p><p>“If you—” Ben’s voice wavers. He stops and takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he works through the surge of emotion. “—love me,” he tries again, “why did you push me away?”</p><p>Despite his imposing size and his battle scars, in this moment he looks like nothing so much as a weary, achingly lonely little boy. His Force signature throbs with hurt—an old, soul-deep hurt, of which her rejection is merely the most recent, painful pang.</p><p>Rey’s heart twists with mingled sympathy and guilt. She’s caused him enough pain. </p><p>“I was scared,” she admits.  </p><p>“Of me?”  </p><p>“No!” she cries, dropping down beside him on the edge of the bed and clutching his hand. She hasn’t feared him since that day in the rain on Ahch-To, when he looked at her much like the way he is now, with such depthless self-loathing in his eyes. “I—”  </p><p>She hesitates, chewing at her lip as she tries to untangle her thoughts. She’s never been good with words, but Ben deserves nothing less than the truth, as plain as she can make it.</p><p>“I did want to take your hand,” she finally admits. “Ben’s hand. But—” She looks down at the mattress where she’s done just that, her slender, scarred fingers curled around his long, thick ones. “But for the first time in my life, I had— a place. A purpose. People who needed me. I thought if— if I could be a Jedi like they wanted me to be—”</p><p>“They’d finally love you,” Ben finishes. “If you just tried harder. Did better. Were— <em>more</em>.” He nudges tentatively at the bond and, when she invites him in, sends her flashes of memory.</p><p>
  <em>A toddler with a wild mop of black curls, huddled underneath the blankets and sounding out far-too-long words in a childish lisp, waiting eagerly for his mother to come home from yet another Senate gala.  </em>
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  <em>A young boy, hunched over a flight simulator, his disappointed frown lit by the blue glow of the computer as a muffled pair of voices—one male, one female—shout somewhere outside the room.</em>
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  <em>A sullen teenager—big-eared, big-nosed, still too slim for his height—trying and failing to be properly serene during meditation at Luke’s academy, bristling at his uncle-master’s disappointed sigh.  </em>
</p><p>Rey nods, a tear slipping down her cheek—as much for him as for herself. “I wanted them to want me.”</p><p><em>“I</em> wanted you,” Ben says, low and fervent. “I always have.”</p><p>“I know. And I was scared of that more than anything.”</p><p>Even in the very beginning, he’d never tried to hide it from her—not really. His soul had cried out to her, and the strength of her response had shaken her to the core. What sort of Jedi, what sort of hero was she, if her dark mirror—her equal and her enemy—made her wish that there were no war, that they were nothing but two nobodies who could just— <em>run away</em>, find somewhere green and quiet to just <em>be?  </em> </p><p>“I didn’t—” She gives a little shake of her head. “I didn’t know <em>how</em> to be wanted. Not like that. I never could have imagined you.”   </p><p>“And now?” Ben asks—and how is it that, in spite of himself, the Supreme Leader of the galaxy can sound so vulnerable, as if one word from her could end him?  </p><p>Now Rey knows what she wants—what she <em>needs. </em>She’s tried being without him and found it a hollow existence. The night she had the vision of the coup, she’d been <em>terrified—</em>for Ben, yes, but also, on some level, for <em>herself</em>, at the idea of him being ripped away forever and leaving her to go through life with no one to ever truly understand her, <em>see</em> her, again—lonelier than ever before, the pain made even sharper by knowing him all too briefly.</p><p>So she looks him in the eye and tells him, “I want the future we saw. I want <em>you,</em> Ben.”</p><p>He draws a shuddering breath, looking at her like he can’t believe that she— that <em>any</em> of this is real. Through the bond, she feels his hope and his doubt, a candle flame guttering in the wind.  </p><p>“The man you want,” he gulps, “Ben Solo… I’m not him. Not anymore. I may never <em>be</em> him again.”  </p><p>Rey shakes her head. “No. You <em>are </em>him. You always were. I just didn’t realize it until now.” She leans forward. “Ben Solo. Kylo Ren. I want all of you.”</p><p>He still looks uncertain, and Rey aches for him all over again, at this proof of a life so long devoid of love that he can’t seem to believe that she gives it to him freely and fully.  </p><p>Well, in her experience, actions—or memories, as the case may be—speak louder than words.</p><p>“Let me show you.”</p><p>She lifts his hand and holds it against her cheek, inviting him to look into her mind. Once he does, she shows him her memories of their shared vision and the way it had made her feel.</p><p>When Ben resurfaces from her mind, he blinks. A tear rolls down his cheek, and his joy burns golden and steady in the Force. “Rey,” he murmurs, “be with me? Please?”</p><p>“Of course I will,” she breathes, smiling—then, because she <em>can,</em> she says, “Now kiss me, Ben.”</p><p>He lets out a quiet, huffing laugh, his breath puffing against her mouth—</p><p>—then his lips are on hers, and <em>oh Force</em>, Rey thinks she likes this kiss just as much as she liked the first one, if not more so. Ben’s thumb caresses her cheek as his other hand cradles her shoulder. His mouth moves gently against hers, savoring her as if she were some rare delicacy. <em>I love you, </em>he breathes through the bond, <em>I <strong>love</strong></em> <em>you—</em>and Rey’s head swims with the immensity of their shared emotion, with the impossible <em>tenderness</em> of it all.</p><p>Ben pulls back far too soon for her liking. Rey whines in protest and chases his mouth with her own—but when that small movement makes her head swim again, she realizes it’s probably more than just the kiss making her dizzy.   </p><p>He rests his forehead against hers with another rueful laugh. “Yeah, me too. We should get some rest.”</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>When Rey wakes, she’s not sure how much time has passed. She guesses it must have been about the length of a night cycle on Boreas-V, though, because she wakes feeling more rested than she’s felt in months—or, perhaps, in her whole life.</p><p>Beside her, Ben slumbers on. They’d fallen asleep face to face, her hand laced with his, but he’s shifted a bit in his sleep, and now both his hands are wrapped around hers on the pillow. It’s an endearingly childlike pose, and Rey finds herself entranced by this new facet of him. He looks so peaceful—and <em>feels</em> it too, unlike the time she found him passed out at her workbench. Now his Force signature is less like a dormant volcano and more like the lake on Takodana—still and deep, occasionally rippling with one dream or another.  </p><p>She feels a scavenger’s thrill of finding something rare and unexpectedly valuable, as well as a fierce protectiveness—</p><p>—and something more, something much deeper and sweeter that builds in her chest until she can’t help it, she <em>has</em> to release it, give it a voice and a name.</p><p>“I love you,” she whispers.     </p><p>Ben stirs, burrowing deeper into the pillow with a sleepy hum. His eyes flutter open, and Rey is struck once more by the sheer <em>intimacy </em>of this moment—of seeing Ben at his most unguarded, with his hair rumpled and his eyes still hazy with sleep, before the cares of the day make themselves known.</p><p>She wants to wake up to this every day, for the rest of her life and beyond.  </p><p>Ben blinks drowsily at her. “Am I still dreaming?” he mumbles.   </p><p>Rey’s insides go all fluttery at the sound of his voice—even deeper than usual, and faintly raspy from sleep. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to slide closer and softly press her lips to his, to smile against his mouth when he rumbles with pleasure.</p><p>The blankets tangle around them as they curl closer to each other. The world goes pleasantly fuzzy around the edges as they kiss, and kiss, and kiss, lips brushing gently against each other’s again and again. For all Rey knows, or cares, minutes or hours or <em>days</em> could have passed by the time they finally separate.  </p><p>“Good morning, Ben,” she murmurs, nuzzling her nose against his.</p><p>Her stomach gives an almighty grumble, and their eyes fly wide open.</p><p>Rey blushes and squirms even closer, pressing her face into the crook of Ben’s neck. “Sorry,” she mumbles into his skin. “Haven’t eaten since before I left base.”</p><p>He laughs quietly, the sound a pleasant rumble against her cheek. “I’ll have breakfast sent up.” He hesitates a moment, then presses a shy kiss to the top of her head before disentangling himself from her and rising from the bed.    </p><p>The food arrives a few moments later, and Rey’s eyes nearly pop out of her head at how <em>much</em> of it there is, and at how many different kinds there are. The droid delivering their meal is accompanied by a very perplexed communications officer.</p><p>“Sir?” says the woman, holding up her datapad. “We’ve just received a transmission from General Organa.” As Ben and Rey exchange surprised looks, the officer continues, “She says the Resistance… would like to call for a ceasefire, and to begin negotiating peace terms.”   </p><p>Rey blinks. How had Leia known so quickly, when she hadn’t even had a chance to comm her yet— oh.</p><p>Ben’s brow furrows when he sees the gentle smile spreading across Rey’s face, the faintly misty look in her eyes. She turns to him and says, in a tone of dawning realization, “’A mother always knows.’”</p><p>Ben lets out a sharp exhale and goes stock-still, save for the quivering of his jaw. The Force trembles around him likewise, hope and shame and remorse warring within him and bleeding outward. He stares mutely at Rey, and his eyes are those of a lost child—wide, frightened, tear-bright.</p><p>He swallows hard and, with visible effort, turns to the comms officer, who is staring studiously down at her datapad. “Tell her,” he says thickly, “I will see her at her earliest convenience. And that she will have safe passage through First Order space.”  </p><p>“Sir.” She nods briskly, then, after a moment’s hesitation, turns to Rey and nods to her too. “Ma’am.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Rey manages as the officer and the droid leave the room.</p><p>The moment they’re alone again, Ben surges forward, clutching Rey close and burying his head in the crook of her neck. He’s trembling, so hard that she’s half-worried his legs will give out.</p><p>“Oh, Ben,” she murmurs.</p><p>She wraps her arms around him and gently but firmly guides him to sit down, right there on the floor in the middle of his quarters.   </p><p>He pulls her into his lap, pressing even closer to her, as if he wishes he could hide <em>inside </em>her and not come out for a long, long time. His tears soak through her shirt, and his sobs, guttural and anguished, cut straight to her heart.</p><p><em>I’m here,</em> she vows through the bond. She presses her lips to the crown of his head and strokes a hand through his hair and down to his back, over and over again. <em>I’m right here with you. You’re not alone, Ben.  </em></p><p><em>Let him know he’s loved</em>, Leia had asked.   </p><p>Well, Rey has certainly done that.</p><p>One day, she swears, Ben will believe it too.</p><p>✲✲✲</p><p>The <em>Millennium Falcon </em>arrives that same afternoon, its dirty, battered hull a sharp contrast to the gleaming metal and crisp lines of the <em>Steadfast</em>’s hangar.</p><p>Ben stands tall and regal, his black doublet trimmed with silver and pearl-gray braiding. He looks every bit the son of a princess—but he watches his family’s ship land with the grim anticipation of a condemned man awaiting the firing squad. His disquiet ripples through the bond, unnoticed by all save Rey—</p><p>—Rey, who stands beside him—excited, yes, and <em>hopeful, </em>but also almost as nervous as he is. Part of it is her borrowed finery—there hadn’t been time to have anything tailored specifically for her, so she’d worn a tunic to match Ben’s, securing it with her belt and her crossed, gauzy sashes. The flare of possessiveness—of <em>heat</em>—she’d sensed from Ben had been quite pleasant, but part of her still recognizes the awkwardness of meeting Leia—and her entourage—dressed in Leia’s son’s clothes.  </p><p><em>Stop worrying. </em>Ben brushes the backs of his bare fingers against hers.</p><p>Rey resists the urge to snort aloud as she weaves her fingers through his. <em>Take your own advice, Solo.</em></p><p>The <em>Falcon</em>’s boarding ramp lowers—</p><p>—and Leia emerges from the ancient freighter, attended by Chewbacca and C-3PO.</p><p>Ben’s throat bobs once, hard, as he watches the remnants of his family approach.</p><p>When Leia finally stands before them, she doesn’t say anything for a long moment, or perhaps a short eternity. Her eyes roam over Ben from head to toe and back again—not one military commander sizing up another, but a mother hungrily taking in the sight of her son after being too long starved of it. </p><p>“<em>Ben,</em>” Leia says at last, a wealth of emotion in the single, hushed syllable—pride in the man he has become, regret that, through her own fault, she has missed it happening.</p><p>He doesn’t speak, doesn’t <em>move</em>, until Rey squeezes his hand in silent support.</p><p>Only then does Ben begin to thaw, and when he speaks, he can only manage a single word, his voice hitching briefly and his eyes burning suspiciously bright.</p><p>“Mother.”</p><p>
  <strong>FIN.</strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>EDIT, 2/21/2021: Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everren">Everren</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/flypaper_brain">flypaper_brain</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpietrove4/pseuds/Magpietrove4">Magpietrove4</a> for being amazing betas-slash-cheerleaders!</p><p>And thank YOU—yes, you—for reading! If you liked this, please don't forget to leave a comment or kudos, or come say hi on <a href="https://twitter.com/niennathegrey">twitter</a> or <a href="https://niennathegrey.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>. </p><p>Till next time!</p>
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